A Catered Halloween (7 page)

“How do you mean?” Brandon asked as he and Bernie retraced their steps.

“He said that Bessie Osgood is at the center of what happened, and I’m starting to think so, too.”

S
ean carefully seated himself in a chair in front of a long table and laid before him the bag with the View-Master that Felicity Huffer had given Bernie. His idea probably wouldn’t come to anything, but he wanted to check it out, anyway.

It would have been easier for him to use his wheelchair in here since getting up and down was a problem for him. It would have been more comfortable, too, but he hated it, so he’d brought Marvin along to help out instead. Which had its own set of problems.

Libby said he didn’t use the chair, because he was too vain, but that wasn’t it at all. It was that he saw using it as a sign of giving in, and for him, giving in meant giving up. He’d been that way all his life, and he couldn’t change now. Maybe that was because his mom had taught him not to take the easy way out.
Ever
.

The chair was a little too deep for him, but he settled back in it as best he could and looked around. The Longely Historical Society was housed in an old Victorian house that had belonged to one of the town’s
founders. The town board had rescued it from the wrecking ball and had put on a new roof and painted the outside lilac, an act that Sean had never understood, and that had been the extent of the fixing up. The house itself was narrow and cluttered with pictures and objects from the town’s past.

Recently, Halloween decorations had been added to the mix. At this time of day, the Longely Historical Society was empty, but then, it usually was. Most people in this town were too busy worrying about whether or not they could afford a Beamer to think much about the past. In fact, he, Marvin, and the librarian, Jeanine Applegate, who was the real reason they were here, were the only people in the place.

“Sit down,” Sean hissed at Marvin, who was roaming around like a demented, fidgeting whooping crane. Why he couldn’t stay still was quite beyond Sean.

“I just wanted to look at the pictures on the wall,” Marvin said.

“You’re distracting me.”

“But you’re not doing anything,” Marvin pointed out.

“I’m thinking.”

Marvin turned and almost knocked a stack of brochures off one of the shelves.

“And you’re going to break something.”

Marvin looked hurt, and Sean felt remorseful for a second or two. But it was true; Marvin was a klutz. Plus he was overly sensitive. The kid had to toughen up.

“Did you know that jack-o’-lanterns come from Ireland and that people used to use turnips?” Marvin said.

Now this
, Sean thought,
is what my daughter would call a random comment
. “Yes, Marvin, I know,” Sean said.

“Because you’re Irish?”

“Because Bernie told me.”

“That would mean the Irish don’t eat roasted pumpkin seeds. That’s one of my favorite parts about Halloween.”

Sean took a deep breath and let it out. “Marvin.”

“Turnips don’t have seeds.”

“Yes. I know.” And with that, Sean reached out and grabbed the newspaper that was sitting there, held it up to his face, and pretended to read the front page. He’d never had that much patience, but now that he was getting older, he had none at all.

God, Marvin talked a lot. There was no disputing that. His driving wasn’t great, either, but Libby loved him, and basically, he was a good kid, even if he did make Sean crazy. Back in the Ice Age, when he’d been chief of police, he’d learned from the man he’d served under that you had to work with what you had and bring your men up to a higher level of functioning. That was what being a leader meant.

Sean thought about that for a moment, and then he went back to thinking about what he hoped to accomplish here. Besides talking to Jeanine, who was Amethyst’s second or third cousin, he couldn’t remember which, he wanted to look at the old pictures of the Peabody School and read any material they had pertaining to the place. He was also hoping that the Longely Historical Society had some materials on Bessie Osgood, although he kind of doubted it.

He threw Jeanine his most charming smile as she came toward him, and she smiled back. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine two more different people than Amethyst and Jeanine. Jeanine was sweet and low-keyed, while Amethyst had been…What was that word his mother had always used about women she didn’t like? He had
it…Amethyst had been a mantrap. Nothing about her had been real.

“Good to see you, Jeanine,” Sean said when she got close enough.

Rather than shake Sean’s hand, she nodded, because her hands were full of books and newspaper clippings. Sean noted she was wearing a pleated skirt, a blouse with a rounded collar, and a green cardigan sweater. A large pin of a witch on a broomstick was attached to her collar. He approved of her clothes; they were sensible and pleasant. And they didn’t call attention to themselves the way some of the things that his youngest daughter wore did.

Jeanine smiled again. “Good to see you, too, Sean. I’m glad to see you’re up and about.”

Sean spread his hands out. Since they were no longer shaking, he could do that now. “I’m trying.”

“Well, I’m glad you are.” Jeanine put the stack she was carrying down in front of him. “Here,” she said. “I figure this is what you’re interested in.”

Sean was amazed. “How do you know what I’m interested in?”

Jeanine laughed. “Well, you’re not really into local history, so what else could you be here for but the Amethyst thing.”

Sean just stared at her. How had she known, and how had she pulled everything together so fast?

“I’m not a mind reader,” Jeanine said, interpreting his silence correctly. “Actually, I did this before you arrived because I was interested myself. When I saw you coming up the walkway, I ran and got what I’d found.”

“And did you find anything?”

Jeanine shook her head. “Nothing that I didn’t know before. Although I’d forgotten that Bessie Osgood was related to your wife.”

Sean shifted his weight around. “Rose never liked to talk about it.”

“She was like that.”

“Yes, she was.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, my family never liked to talk about Amethyst’s possible role in Bessie’s death,” Jeanine said. “They just pretended it was an accident.”

“But you didn’t think so?”

“No. Absolutely not. And I don’t think they thought so, either. They never said anything, but it was just the sense I got.”

Sean nodded toward the chair next to him. “Why don’t you sit down? Unless you have something else to do, that is.”

Jeanine laughed. Sean decided her laugh was like her clothes. Nice.

“I’m sure my cataloging will wait for me,” she said as she folded herself into the chair he’d indicated. She fussed with her pin for a moment, and then she said, “I don’t like to talk this way about people, but Amethyst was just bad. She always was. That’s why she was in that school, you know. Her mom was afraid of her.” Jeanine leaned forward and lowered her voice. “She got mad at her mom one day and killed her cat. Set it on fire, and then she tried to blame my cousin Natalie.”

Marvin came and stood behind Sean. “How did everyone know it wasn’t Natalie?” he asked.

“Because Natalie loved animals. She was one of those people who always brought strays home with her,” said Jeanine.

“Then why did Amethyst pick her?” asked Sean.

“Probably because she thought it would be funny, you know, Natalie being blamed for something like that. She even planted one of Natalie’s books at the
scene. And she was so convincing. If you didn’t know Natalie, you’d really think she’d done something like that.”

“Maybe we could talk to Natalie,” Sean said.

Jeanine’s eyes misted over, and then she blinked, and the tears were gone. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. She died in a plane crash a couple of years ago. Amethyst was so nice on the outside, but inside…” Jeanine shuddered. “I tried to stay as far away from her as I could when I was growing up. One day she and Inez Colley were baby-sitting me—”

“Wait,” Sean interrupted. “Inez was friends with Amethyst?”

“Oh yes,” said Jeanine. She wrinkled her brow while she thought. “Along with Zinnia McGuire and Zachery Timberland and Bob Small. They used to sneak into the school at night and visit Amethyst. I think Bessie Osgood saw them, and she was going to tell.”

“Are you sure?” said Sean.

“No. I’m not sure about anything. I just remember overhearing my parents talking,” replied Jeanine. “Then they saw me outside, listening, and changed the subject.”

“Interesting,” Sean said. “Maybe one of them killed Bessie.”

“Maybe,” Jeanine replied.

“I don’t suppose you kept in touch?” Sean asked.

“With Amethyst?” asked Jeanine.

Sean nodded.

“Kind of. She called when she needed something.” Jeanine fingered her pin. “I spoke to her about four months ago. She wanted to know if I could give her Ed Banks’s private phone number.”

“The guy who owns Lexus Gardens?” asked Sean.

“Yeah.”

Sean remembered that Bernie had tried to get in contact with Ed Banks and had been told by his personal assistant that he didn’t talk to people he wasn’t familiar with.

“He’s not very friendly.”

“He’s a recluse.”

“Like Howard Hughes?” asked Sean.

“Not that bad, but heading in that direction. I wasn’t going to give her the number, but then Amethyst called again, and she was so sweet…That was her talent, you know. She made you believe you were her best friend, and even though you knew it was a lie, you still wanted to believe her.”

“So you gave it to her?” asked Sean.

“Yes, I did.”

“I wonder what she wanted it for.”

Jeanine shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“And Zinnia? What about her?”

“She died a while ago,” said Jeanine.

Sean raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” Jeanine said. “It was nothing like that. She was in a car accident.” She pushed the stack of articles in front of Sean. “And now I’m sure you’re anxious to get going on these materials.”

Actually, Sean wasn’t at all anxious to get going on his reading. He was having a good time talking to Jeanine, but he smiled and thanked her again for the time she’d taken with him.

“Nice lady,” Marvin said after she’d gone back to her office.

Sean grunted.

“I don’t think she’s seeing anyone,” Marvin said.

“Now why would you say that?” Sean demanded.

“I don’t know,” Marvin stammered. “I thought you might be interested.”

“Well, I’m not,” Sean snapped as he went through the papers that Jeanine had brought him. He separated out all the ones with pictures of the Peabody School. The rest he pushed toward Marvin with the tips of his fingers.

“Read these,” Sean ordered.

“What am I looking for?” Marvin asked.

“Anything of interest.”

“But how will I know what’s of interest to you? I mean, I thought that thing about the turnips being jack-o’-lanterns in Ireland was pretty interesting, and you didn’t.”

“Just read,” Sean hissed. He didn’t know why he was suddenly in such a bad mood.

Marvin opened his mouth, closed it again, and began to do what he was told. As soon as he was settled, Sean took all the pictures of the Peabody School out and spread them on the table. Then he began to compare them with the slides from the View-Master. Half an hour later, he wasn’t any better off than he had been before. He had his hand on the small of his back and was stretching when Jeanine came back out of her office.

“I haven’t seen one of those in years,” Jeanine said, pointing to the View-Master.

“Me either,” said Sean. He explained where he’d gotten it from.

“So what are you hoping to find?” Jeanine asked.

Sean shook his head. “I have no idea,” he confessed. “No idea at all.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Jeanine asked.

“Be my guest,” said Sean. He watched as she went through the slides.

“I don’t get it,” she said.

“Neither do I,” replied Sean.

“These slides are pictures of the Peabody School,” Jeanine noted.

Sean nodded.

“What are they supposed to show?” asked Jeanine.

Sean shook his head. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t have a clue. “I thought if I could compare some photos with the slides, it might give me an idea, but it hasn’t.”

“Maybe you should go talk to Felicity Huffer,” Jeanine suggested.

“That’s whom I got them from. Or rather my daughter did. Felicity Huffer just told her the answer to our problem is there and to go figure it out for herself.”

Jeanine made a face. “I could see her doing that and it having nothing to do with the solution to your problem.”

“She could,” Sean said, thinking of what she’d been like.

“Age doesn’t necessarily make people nicer,” said Jeanine.

“That’s for sure,” Marvin interjected.

Sean glared at him, and he went back to reading the papers he’d been given.

“What do you think the odds of that are?” Sean asked Jeanine.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jeanine said after a moment had gone by. “Felicity’s daughter is on the board of the Longely Historical Society. Maybe she can help us. Would you like me to talk to her?”

Sean nodded.

“All right then,” said Jeanine. “And would you mind if I kept the View-Master and looked at the slides again? Maybe something will occur to me.”

Sean could feel himself smiling. “That would be lovely,” he said.

“Good,” Jeanine said. “I’ll call you either way.” She gathered up the materials and withdrew to her office.

A few minutes later Sean and Marvin were out the door.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I found?” Marvin asked when they were settled in Marvin’s black limo.

“What?” Sean asked as he fastened his seat belt. He hated riding in this car. It reminded him of riding in a hearse, but as Libby had said to him when he’d complained, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I didn’t find out anything. All the articles in the papers reported Bessie Osgood’s death as an accident.”

“That’s what I expected,” Sean said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because that’s what was in everyone’s interest to do. After all, if you report a murder at a private boarding/day school, most people will pull their kids out.”